


Mercy and Transportation

by Anonymous



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Return to Treasure Island (TV 1996)
Genre: Gen, hand wavey historical fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 19:49:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20377144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: What if court had gone differently for Ross?  A DarkHawk meeting fic!





	Mercy and Transportation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Linane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linane/gifts).

> For Linane, for always being so supportive. Thank you, dear!

“Captain Poldark, this is not the first time you’ve come before this court,” the judge intoned as he shuffled through the papers in front of him. 

One of the magistrates leaned over and pointed at a paper as he said, “The previous time, he was given the option to join the military.”

Erskine, Ross’s lawyer, interjected, “And earned a captain’s rank for his distinguished service during the war.”

“Yes, yes.” The judge waved the lawyer’s comment away. “Still, much leniency has been given because of the old family name of Poldark.”

Anger bubbled up and Ross blurted out, “If going to war, being wounded, and losing my friends is your idea of leniency, I’d hate to see your idea of ruthlessness.”

“Quiet, Ross,” Erskine hissed.

But the judge had heard him and looked up sharply. “Very well, Captain Poldark. If you insist.”

“Your honor,” Erskine tried, but the judge kept talking.

“You are hereby found guilty of the crimes of smuggling and incitement to riot. Your sentence is transportation for a period of no less than seven years.”

“No!” 

Ross recognized Verity’s voice but didn’t have the strength to turn around and look for her. It felt as if gravity increased with every word from the judge’s lips, until he had to lean over and support himself by his arms on the rail in front of him. It was all he could do to remain standing.

The judge continued, ignoring the outburst. “If you return before the seven years are up, you’ll serve fourteen years in jail. When you arrive, you will become an indentured servant until such time as you work off the costs of court and transportation, for a minimum of one year. After the seven years are up, you will be allowed to return to your home and station, at your own expense. Due to the royal prerogative of mercy, you have a chance to rehabilitate and continue your life, but I do not want to see you before this court again. Understood?”

This couldn’t be happening. Ross didn’t know if he could speak through his numb lips, so he nodded. 

“If I may, your honor,” Erskine tried again. 

The judge transferred his glare to the lawyer. “My verdict is final.” He looked back at his papers before gesturing to the bailiff. “Take him away.”

***

After spending weeks trapped on a ship, crammed below deck with dozens of other men, most of whom were seasick, Ross thought he would be thrilled to walk on dry land again. Now that the time was here, though, he was filled with misgivings. 

He was glad to be away from the ship, that was true enough. But as soon as he disembarked, he was forced to line up on the dock with his fellow prisoners. Now he had to stand here, beside common criminals, and wait for someone to buy his contract. His stomach was in knots, and he was glad he hadn’t eaten anything that day. In between the tension and being back on solid ground after so many weeks at sea, he wouldn’t have been able to keep it down. 

After the third hour in the sun without anyone showing an interest in him, he started to get discouraged. He knew he must look awful. There had been no extra water on board for bathing, and the prisoners were rarely allowed above decks. He had lost weight during the journey, too. Even so, he did his best to stand up straight whenever someone looked his way. 

Four hours in, he was starting to wonder what happens to a prisoner if no one bought their contract. One of the other men said they would be sent to work in a mine. He didn’t know if that was true or not, but he supposed it could be worse. 

A few people were beginning to show up and talk to the prisoners now, though. Two men had already been led away by their new employers, and there were conversations happening up and down the line. 

A young man walked slowly along the dock, examining the prisoners. He was wearing a snow-white linen shirt with a light tan vest over it, and his bright blond hair peeked out from under his hat to shine in the sun. With his golden tanned skin, the overall effect made it look like an angel had come down from heaven to judge the lowly sinners on the docks. Looking at him made Ross feel filthier than ever. 

The young man stopped in front of a prisoner and demanded, “Show me your hands.”

The prisoner held them out, palm up. The letters “BC” were exposed on the inside of his wrist, to show he had been convicted multiple times, standing for bad character. 

The young man grimaced and moved to the man next to Ross and made the same demand. The prisoner held his hands out, palms up, and there was no brand exposed. When the young man gestured, the prisoner flipped his hands over to reveal swollen knuckles scabbed from fighting on the ship. The young man bit his lip and glanced at the ship’s captain. 

Ross knew the prisoner next to him was a dangerous bully, and the blond looked too young to deal with someone like that. Before the young man could call for the captain, he thrust his hands out in front of him. The young man quirked an eyebrow but stepped closer to inspect them. Ross waited a beat, and then turned them over without prompting. Aside from being dirty, his hands were unmarked. 

The young man looked between the two of them, then asked Ross, “Why are you here?”

“Smuggling and inciting a riot,” Ross answered. 

“And you?” the blond asked the other prisoner.

“Petty theft, sir.”

The blond gestured for the captain. He silently looked over the two men in front of him until the captain stepped up, then he asked, “Why were they transported?”

The captain shuffled through his papers before he found the right ones. He gestured to Ross and said, “Incitement to riot, and smuggling. The other is aggravated assault with intent to kill.”

The young man turned to Ross without giving the other prisoner a second glance. “I need someone to help me on my farm. Interested?”

Ross nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The young man told the captain, “I’ll buy this one’s contract.”

Ross held out his hand. “I’m Ross Poldark.”

The young man gave Ross’s hand a bemused look, but then shook it. “Jim Hawkins.”

They followed the captain to a table set up by the ship’s ramp. Jim and the captain both signed a sheet of paper, after which the captain applied a wax seal and handed it over to Jim. Jim handed over the money, and that was that. 

“Ready?” Jim asked Ross. 

Ross nodded. He was more than ready to get away from the ship and the smell of the docks. 

***

The Hawkins estate was modest, and a bit run down. A large barn, a nice house, and a few decent sized fields. Everything showed signs of neglect, though. 

Jim led Ross to the center of the kitchen courtyard. “There’s a loft in the barn where you can sleep. Have you had lunch?”

Ross shook his head. “Haven’t had breakfast.”

“You haven’t eaten today?” Jim frowned and pointed to the water pump. “Well, wash up and we can find something to tide you over until dinner’s ready.” 

Ross ran a hand over his face. “If you have a razor I could borrow, I’d be much obliged.”

“I do. I think I even have a shirt that will fit you,” Jim said as he ran an eye over Ross. “Clean up, eat, and then we’ll discuss your duties.”

Ross straightened up under Jim’s gaze, but slouched again as Jim walked away. He grimaced at the water pump, knowing it would be cold. Well, he better get used to it. This would be his life for the foreseeable future. 


End file.
